Segment 22

Spring Creek Pass to Carson Saddle.



This is the map of mile 2.6, including where to find the water.


Ruby Creek Cirque. The ponds are just behind the little cluster of trees, towards the lower-right. This looked like it might be an acceptable place to camp, but don't head down there just for water, unless it's been a dry year -- there should be water in ponds nearer the trail, up above.


The red mountain, beautifully visible from mile 6.5... along with Jack, hiking dog.






Around mile 2.6, I met Pat and her husband, and their dog, Jack. That proved to be fortunate indeed, for I might not have found the water here, otherwise -- not with time left to set up camp before the rain, at least! There's map below with the location.

The three of them were downright extraordinary. Pat and her husband were around late retirement age; their dog was a shelter rescue. They'd fitted him with a pack. Jack carried his own food and water, plus a little extra water for them, and seemed pretty happy about the situation -- made me wish for a dog! The three of them were hiking the CT a week or so at a time, one chunk each year. I hope they made it through to Silverton.

I ended up pushing past their stopping point (the beautiful yurt at 8.7) and trying to make it to Carson Saddle. I didn't get there... not that night. The talus climb at 12.0 was so downright awful, slow, and exhausting, I ended up still at 13,000 feet by nightfall, and camped there. By this point, acclimation to high elevations is pretty much complete -- I had no problems, save an occasional shortness of breath. But there was nothing to burn, and even if I'd had a stove, it might not have worked. I crunched down an uncooked block of Ramen. Hope you'll pack better food choices than I.

Watch for misleading cairns. There's no real danger of getting lost, because the CT track is cut and very clear and other trails can't even be seen. But their guiding rockpiles still stand, leading off over the flowered tundra.

The one nice bit about this high alpine walk is that there was plenty of water, contrary to the somewhat hysterical warnings issued by the Guidebook. If you've been having good afternoon showers over the past several days, if you can clearly see dampness in the top layer of soil, you'll find water, too, at approximately miles 13, 14.4, and 16.5. Look off the trail, to your left. There are some large ponds downhill of every saddle, but also several smaller ones nestled closer to the trail. Collecting water from one of them will save you from having to haul four liters up that monstrous talus scramble.

One item you should drag up there, however... is a pack of spare batteries. Really. Several hikers I spoke with also had their cameras go dead at just this point. Perhaps the devices know that the scenery here is some of the wildest and highest in North America, that there are hundreds of views so striking you'll yearn to capture them. Perhaps it's merely Murphy's law at work. Whatever the ultimate cause of camera failure, make sure your spare batteries are fresh. You may well need them.

Shortly before Carson Saddle, you'll probably start to see ATVs again. The roads they race over are worn in deep ravines and potholes large enough to sink a jeep -- it'd be interesting to see how the accelerated erosion shapes this area over the next couple centuries. The trail soon crosses the road which leads down and to your right; you can stay on switchbacked footpaths for part of the way at first (highly recommended), but eventually you'll have to rejoin the slick, steep road.





The knife-edge ridge extends the next couple hundred yards up the trail is scarier than it looks here. Off to the right, the views are extraordinary and stunning -- and camera slaying. :< Note the plateau and rocky outcrop in the upper-left of this picture. Looks steep? That's where the trail goes.


Jack, with his packs, takes a breather. So does my pack.





Suggested updates to the guidebook:


0.0
Though there are toilets at this trailhead, they are the old type. Which means they stink so strongly of ammonia, you may be in very real danger of passing out and having to be rescued by hazmat crews. Don't know about you, but I'd rather pee behind a tree than risk such a fate.

1.7
It's hard to tell where this water source actually is. I wandered through several meadows and found marshy bits, but no water. It'd be easier to just go ahead to 2.6.

2.6
The actual spring is located off the road to your right, just before you leave the road for the trail; there may be some trickles of water running across the road which mark the general area. To find the best place to gather water, look for a large 'W'-shape of boulders and talus, about 200 feet upslope to your right. There are small pools and streamlets near both bottom points of the 'W'. There are camping spots past the 'W', near the treeline.

3.5
Bear left, climb a hill and enter the Jarosa mesa alpine area. The ground here is very, very rocky, so no actual trail could be cut -- you have to follow cairns for about 2 miles. This is easier than it sounds, as the cairns basically just lead you in a straight line west, to a point just barely left of a hilltop with communications antenna. You wouldn't want to camp up here, though.

5.6
At the base of the hill with the communications antenna, you'll come to a T-intersection. Bear left (west) around the antenna hill. The intersection is marked.

6.5
There are lots of ATVs along this road. Also, if you keep an eye open to your right, you'll see a fantastic red-sided mountain.

8.7
After you head right and downhill, through the forest and away from the ATV road, you'll come to an open field which is crossed by a very faint jeep road. Across the road and to your left, you'll see broad-leaved plants and possibly evidence of erosion, about 100 feet left off the trail. This is the Big Buck spring, and you'll find water somewhere along this watercourse, starting at the eroded spot. If you follow the faint jeep road right (uphill) you'll come to the famously comfortable yurt and a field of wildflowers in about 0.3 miles -- a very highly recommended stopping spot.

8.8
Enter a thick forest and start heading up. These are practically the last trees you'll see for the next 30 miles -- there is precious little firewood ahead, if you've been cooking on campfires. Also, you'll scarcely dip below 12,000 feet for the next 30 miles, and many stoves don't work well at that elevation. Hope you brought a no-cook dinner or two.

11.4
Cross a short knife-edge ridge with tremendous views down to your right. Check your spare camera batteries: I only discovered that mine had died here, when I needed them most! To your left, you can spot pools of water at the head of Ruby Creek. To get to the water there, though, it's a half-mile hike south and maybe 300 feet down.

12.0
Make a note of this point, for it is the single most difficult portion of the CT. The trail seems to head straight up a crumbling cliffside, and you'd be forgiven for thinking that the trail could not possibly go up right *there.* But it does. Take your time on the climb, watch for any indication of switchbacks, as they will make your ascent marginally easier. You might want to pack up your trekking poles, so you can use your hands better. Be extraordinarily careful about cutting switchbacks, even if it's clear other people have become confused and done so, because you could find yourself rim-rocked on the edge of a cliff. I did. My only consolation on the climb was the occasional hoofprint -- proof that horses have made it up this slice of talus hell. And if horses made it, so could I... and so can you.

13.0, 14.4, 16.5
There were ponds near the trail (within 0.3 miles and 100 vertical feet) at all these spots. The ones at 14.4 are evidently quite reliable, the others may only appear in the days after rain. Unless you're hiking during a very dry year, don't try to haul tons of water up the awful ascent at 12.0.

The elevation profile for this segment is generally correct.

---->Onward, to segment 23!

Segment 21

San Luis Pass to Spring Creek Pass




One of the three mineral creeks. This one is flowing directly out of a mineral-streaked rockpile. The water smelled strange, even after adding iodine.


Shortly after crossing the first mineral creek, I came across this. Don't drink the water for too long, I guess.


This is the 'tree cover' and 'water source' at mile 5.3. There was no water, and though there were plenty of trees, the ground beneath them was sloped uncomfortably.


Looking down onto Snow Mesa.





On Snow Mesa, I met my first real-life, honest-to-goodness cowboy. Well, sheepboy, rather. Shepherd. Whatever. He seems to ride along the trail most afternoons, looking for lost sheep and chatting up hikers -- he's become something of a trail icon, and is frequently seen in this area between June-September. He has a little stiff-walled cabin/tent up in the hills, and is quite friendly, albeit somewhat lonely. He's helped hikers out before -- he rode up to a spring and picked up clean water for one couple, and he's got good advice about the area. So if you see a man on horseback, riding towards you with a lean and rangy dog and a rifle, don't worry much. He'd appreciate some cigarettes if you have any, though.

One of his pieces of advice concerns camping on Snow Mesa -- despite what the book claims, it really isn't that bad, nor dangerous... provided you stay off the ridges during thunderstorms, of course.






Long views on the climb up past Creede.


The steep and rocky gully which leads down, off Snow Mesa.


The wild and meandering trail.


A talus slope around mile 0.5. Can you spot the two ptarmigan?


There's one! They blend in almost perfectly, and aren't much frightened of hikers. Their chicks are often nearby in early summer, and are even more adorable.





Suggested updates to the guidebook:


2.0
This stream doesn't actually cross the trail -- you have to head down and to the right about a hundred feet to find shallow, marshy water.

2.7
All the mineral creeks have a strange taste to them -- a little bitter, perhaps. This might not be be surprising, since they seem to flow right out of talus and possibly old mine tailings. Still, I drank the water, and I apparently lived to tell the tale.

4.0
Middle mineral creek has several stream beds, all but one of which are usually dry. So if you pass a couple dry gullies and are starting to worry, don't.

4.7
This is nearly the steepest section of the CT -- several scary steep switchbacks cling to the side of a cliff. There's a tiny trickle of water here, too, running a couple hours after a light rain.

5.3
The books say this is the last campsite with tree cover, and also that there's possibly water. You should note that there is only running water during times when there is plenty of snow in this area -- and when there is, you probably don't need liquid water all that badly. While there is tree cover, flat spots are rare; I spent an uncomfortable and thirsty night.

5.8
However, just over this next saddle, there's an alpine valley with plenty of flat spots. There's often water down in the bottom, too, and possibly a little dry wood laying around from scattered small, twisted scrub and brush. Wish I'd camped here, instead. Up ahead 2.5 miles, there's one more good spot to camp before Snow Mesa.

7.9 to 8.2
There is a very long talus slope traverse here, the rocks of which are just the right size to tip the moment you entrust your weight to them. Watch your ankles.

8.4
Down to your left, there's a flat camping spot and possibly water a little lower. It may be a little windy here, though. It's better to get water here rather than further along -- sheep frequent snow mesa and are busily besmichin' the streams.

11.1
Running water is also available here, though it does smell slightly of sheep.

13.6
I actually didn't find any water here -- there's probably only water during actual storms and while there's snow on the ground.

14.9
There was a full irrigation ditch here just before the road, which usually contains water.

Elevation profile was roughly correct for this segment.

----> Onward, to segment 22!

Segment 20

Eddiesville Trailhead to San Luis Pass




The view of San Luis saddle and peak, from around mile 7.


Looking back down lovely Cochetopa valley, from the San Luis saddle.


Standing atop San Luis saddle, looking towards Creede. Even in late July, the tundra was scattered with flowers.


Jagged, alien cliffs surround the alpine valleys through which you pass, after San Luis peak.




This stretch of the trail is a tough one for resupplies. The hitch into Creede later on, at the end of segment 21, is a difficult one -- and 33 miles long, to boot. Creede is temptingly close here, at about ten miles away, but over roads infrequently traveled. What to do?

Most hikers who passed me had good luck hitching with people climbing San Luis peak. Peak baggers hike on weekend mornings, so if you get to the end of the segment by the early afternoon, you should be able to make friends and catch a ride back to town.

Another option, if you have a satellite phone, (or if you can get cell reception atop any ridge -- unlikely, alas) is to call Debbie. She'll pick you up from the San Luis trailhead, about 2 miles from the pass. She will also take you back up there. She charges between $8-20/person each way, depending on how many of you there are.

Also, if you just start walking towards town in the early/midmorning, you stand a fair chance of just running into Debbie when she takes hikers up, especially on Monday mornings. I did. She'll take you back down to town for free, since she's headed that way already.

To walk towards town from San Luis Pass, first head left, downhill, alongside a small stream for about 1 mile. When you come to a tall post, take a right along an old jeep track, which fords the now-medium-size stream a couple of times. You then come to a parking area, with a good dirt road. This is where Debbie will drop you off, or pick you up if you called her. You can follow this road about two more miles, crossing the stream a couple of times, to a fork. Head right, fording the stream again, and continue on this road all the way down, past amazing old mining ruins. You will almost certainly start seeing more traffic in a mile or two.

The cheapest rooms in Creede are at the Snowshoe inn -- a night will set you back eighty bucks, but you get a microwave and fridge and breakfast and free internet (wireless and via a netbook in the office.) You could easily put four hikers in a room, too.

To get hold of Debbie, call: 719 850 8715 (cell) or 719 658 2705 (home.) She will also drive you elsewhere in Colorado for about a dollar a mile.





Thistles in bloom on San Luis saddle.


Fantastic cliffside campsite, just before the stream at mile 10.9. A great spot for an early morning trip into Creede, and there's plenty of firewood. Unfortunately, as there was plenty of dry firewood, I built a nice big fire....


... and ended up doing this to my cooking pot. Yep, my campfire melted fairly high grade cooking-pot aluminum. Whoops.





Suggested updates to the guidebook:

0.0
From the Eddiesville Trailhead register, walk *right* along the dirt road, past some campsites and out to another larger dirt road. *Then* head left, over Stuart creek, past a sign for the Eddiesville Corral, past a big locked gate. The road ends here; the trail continues on past the register.

0.5
Follow along the fence line, with the fence to your left.

1.0
There's a gate to your left -- this is not the gate you're looking for.

1.3
This gate is directly in front of you -- pass through.

1.5
There's a weathered sign here stating that taking horses over the next ten miles of trail his highly inadvisable -- impossible, even. As I was standing there reading, a lady on horseback passed me, headed back the way I'd come. She was confidently mounted, was leading two packhorses, and was accompanied by several energetic and happy dogs. So much for the warning.

1.7
The rocky climbs and boulder fields mentioned in the guidebook are mainly filled with dirt now; the path isn't smooth in places, but it certainly isn't bad, either.

5.0
Starting here and extending for perhaps the next two and a half miles, the trail can be exceedingly muddy in places. Astoundingly muddy. So muddy, you may begin to wonder whether to laugh or cry while digging your sandal from another sucking mudpit. If you encounter such mud, make sure to take you time and poke apparently-solid spots with a pole before stepping.

7.5
The 'Stewart Creek trail' signpost here doesn't, oddly, seem to point to any trail. Perhaps the Stewart creek trail was just very overgrown, for I couldn't find it. Not to worry if you can't either -- just continue straight/left on the well-trod CT.

7.6
The campsite here, after you cross Cochetopa fork, does indeed have a commanding view of the valley, and you're sure to see early morning animal traffic across the pass. There is not much firewood or treecover here, though.

9.2
The snow-fed spring here was not running -- not a huge deal, as the creeks at 10.5 and 10.9 had water.

10.5
Spring Creek Trail may now be called 'Bondholders Meadows' and there's not much trail to spot. There's good water a couple days after rain, though, which isn't mentioned in either book.

10.6
Enter trees. Good campspots here, especially a bit further in, just before the next stream.

10.9
Another small stream, then a steep climb over one last saddle.

12.7
A signpost points the way to Creede (left) and the CT (straight.) To get to Creede, see below.

The elevation profile is roughly correct.

----> Onward, to segment 21!

Segment 19

Segment 19
Saguarche Park Road to Eddiesville TH



The hot, dusty CT track weaves up and down along the rocky slope above lovely Cochetopa creek (right-hand track.) Nicer, but potentially muddy, trails follow the stream bed.


Long views in ranch country.


This is the messy intersection at 2.4 -- the pic is taken looking back from the way you come (if you're headed to Durango.) You can see the post marker -- the cows promptly knocked it back down again after I left. Careful here!





Had the Gunnison Sherriff stop me at the beginning of this segment. Yep. He wanted to know if I'd seen two hikers, who'd called in due to a sprained ankle. I had to tell him that I'd not seen anyone matching the description. He nodded sadly. "This happens every couple'a weeks," he said, "they almost always get a hitch into town long before we can get here. But I had to drive sixty miles to find that out." He sighed. "They never do let us know." He drove on, planning to look for the hikers for another hour or so, then head back -- half a day's work and a whole lot of taxpayer dollars for nothing. I'm not sure the moral here needs repeating... but I'm going to do it anyway. For heaven's sakes! Don't call S&R and then go do your own thing without letting them know! Honestly. Ok, no more soapbox now. Really.

The first half of this segment is cowtown central. If you've been so lucky as to escape seeing cattle before now... well, never fear, there are lots of spotting opportunities here. This is a real problem around mile 2.4, where the road becomes a morass of mud and hoofprints and dirt tracks going everywhere. There is a signpost towards the middle-right of the tangle -- just push cows out of your way until you can find the pile of rocks where the sign is supposed to stand. One of those fallen posts near the base will have a triangle marker on it. Don't worry too much about wedging the post upright again; the cows'll promptly just push it over -- people following two hours behind me found the sign as flat as it was when I arrived, with a cow laying atop it, to boot.

Fortunately, you soon cross over a high grassy saddle and descend towards Cochetopa creek, which is beautiful. There are abundant grassy campsites -- the first one lacks nearby wood for a fire, though, so you might want to choose a spot a little further along or spend some time collecting from the hillside above before dark. The Guidebook names this the loneliest segment, but I chatted or camped with a good half-dozen or more hikers, so don't let the threat of solitude frighten you off.

After you head upstream across the creek and then enter the wilderness, the trail heads up the narrow Cochetopa valley, keeping high over the river bottom, probably to avoid mud and floods. But parallel trails below looked much more temperate and far more interesting, albeit possibly slower. The CT and these fishermen's trails lead to the same place... but once you start seeing expansive pale white cliffs to your left, it's time to head right, up the hill, to rejoin the CT. It's then only another two miles to the ranch houses of Eddiesville.






Well-worn track meanders along the valley bottom around mile 7.


The bridge over Cochetopa creek, at mile 9.7, isn't nearly as hard to find as the guidebook implies. The 'strange' rock formation mentioned in the guidebook is also pictured here.





Suggested updates to the guidebook:

0.0
The segment begins where the trail splits from Saguarche Park Road, so keep an eye open to your right.

1.2
There are a few steep, but very brief, climbs, then you dip down into Ant creek. It was flowing, when I passed -- it probably flows several days after each rainstorm. However, it was thoroughly trampled by cattle, and the water resembled tea.

1.5, 2.2
Neither of these turns, mentioned in the databook, was particularly noticeable.

2.4
This is the spot where I came closest to being dangerously lost. The phrase 'maze of roads' in the databook is an apt description. The signpost is probably laying where a cow pushed it over. If you can't find it, head straight and slightly right, towards a place where the trail threads between two fenced long-grass/marshy areas.

3.6
After you come over a hilltop with awesome views, and go through a gate, you'll drop down into a broad valley stretching off to your left. At the bottom, there's another fence-protected wetland/long-grass area. There is sometimes water at the down-slope edge of this wetland area.

5.4
Large, pretty meadow atop this saddle. This area would make a nice camp... but unfortunately, everything is plastered in cow poop. If you have any choice in the matter, keep going -- just another 1.5 miles!

5.6
FS gate

7.0
At long last, Cochetopa creek. This valley is beautiful, and the fly fishing is fantastic. There are numerous campsites all along the river.

9.8
The CT climbs high above the river. It dips up and down and is much hotter and more boring than the pretty little paths that follow the river. So far as I can tell, the river and hillside paths all go the same direction -- upriver. However, near mile 11.5, you should probably abandon the river paths, as the valley narrows and grows rocky. (See picture below.)

12.0
FS gate

12.1
This 'grassy bench' is actually a big, rolling, clifftop meadow -- signs of cattle reappear abundantly, alas.

12.8
You can finally start spotting ranch buildings up ahead.

13.1
This 'split' is no longer very visible -- just follow the marked trail. It's hard to get lost up there.

13.7
Gate, register, and parking area at this trailhead.

The elevation profile is roughly correct for this segment -- though again, the places which look smooth on the profile... usually aren't.
----> Onward, to Segment 20!

Segment 18

Colorado Hwy-114 to Saguarche Park Road.




Can you spot where you're supposed to go?


There it is! The secret gate of mile 0.0.


Interesting cabin ruins near the trail at mile 11.





This segment begins with an odd walk down a heavily-used paved road, to a gate which can be somewhat difficult to locate, particularly if the highway department has deposited an enormous pile of gravel immediately in front of it. Once through that gate, however, the way becomes a singletrack trail once more, following creeks through rolling ranching territory for a while, then heading up into dry pine and scrub. It's actually a rather pretty walk -- and an easy one, for a change.

There were strange and interesting mushrooms along the way, too -- tasty shaggy manes, weird ink caps -- growing and thriving in the dryer environment. There are, however, not many people. Despite what the guidebook says, I found this to be one of the least traveled sections of the trail. It may be one of the least maintained, at any rate -- you'll likely have to deal with fallen trees along some parts of the trail.

Which makes it all the stranger that aliens are not permitted on this portion of the CT. Really. Check the forest service signs, as you come to them -- most list the normal restrictions, like no motorcycles, no hang gliders, and so on... but many also list no grays. Other types of alien might be alright; I'm not sure. Seems somehow miserly, to have someone come all that way across the galaxy and then not permit them to do a little hiking.






No aliens permitted on the CT.


Not a fence for a quarter mile in any direction, but the gate still stands incongruously among the flowers.


Expansive views on the dirt road near Archuleta creek.


Perfect blue sky -- and lots of sun, to dry out your sodden gear!





Suggested updates to your guidebook:

0.0
Above is a picture of the wide parking area -- the gate and sign were hidden behind a giant pile of gravel when I passed. Thanks bunches, highway-builder-dudes. Still, this is the first and most distinctive parking area you'll pass, so just walk along the fence and look for the gate.

0.1
Lujan creek was running merrily at this point, too. (Don't worry if Lujan disappears from time to time between here and the last point you crossed it.)

1.7
Follow Pine creek for a while -- the water here was good throughout 2010, -- then cross it. That crossing is the last water you'll see for at least 5.5 miles.

3.8, 6.4, 6.6
Gates

6.7
This water is 3 miles east -- a long side trip, given that the water just 3 miles ahead is pretty reliable.

6.8
The road curves in a long switchback. One could, if sufficiently motivated, cut a half mile off their walk by heading straight downhill, between the sagebrush, to the turnoff.

7.2
Also running fine in 2010. There are deep pools near the end of the fenced wetland section, and just where the road crosses the stream bed.

9-10
The guidebook makes this section sound very complicated. It isn't -- the trail just reroutes around a marshy section. Keep your eyes open for posts, blazes, and triangle markers... but it's hard to get lost.

9.6
Plenty of water here, as well, where the road dips down and crosses a small tributary stream.

10.3
Awesome viewpoint where you can look down into Cochetopa park

10.5
Follow along a fence. Stay on the downhill road, don't go through any of the gates to your right.

11.0
Nifty cabin ruins, to your left. The trees here are the last shade for a good three miles or so.

11.9
Once passing through this gate (there's a walk-over, too. Nice!) keep an eye open for trail signs -- the road splits in places, but the way is well-marked.

The elevation profile for this segment is roughly correct.
----> Onward, to segment 19!

Segment 17

Sargents Mesa to Colorado Hwy-114




Trailangel Apple's hiker shelter -- just about saved my sanity. Thank you, Apple!


Another sanity-saver -- Razor Creek has been improved by trail crews. There's now a small basin, which usually fills up after every afternoon shower.


Beautiful views a few hundred feet to the right of the trail, around miles 4 to 6.5. Well-worth a little extra exploring!





This segment meanders through the grassy fields of Sergent's Mesa, down through dry and scrubby pine, and up again through wetter woods, over bald mountaintops, and finally winds its way through the aspens and brush of Lujan creek. There are lots of climbs, each followed shortly by lots of steep descents. And there's not much water.

That's the tough bit. When I passed through, I knew I needed about a liter for every four miles, plus another one or two at night. (That's rather a lot, but I'm in crappy shape.) That means finding water for a twelve-mile dry section, plus a dry camp, is tough. I wasn't aware, then, of a rather obvious trick: when you come to a spring, drink. Drink, then drink some more. Sit down beside the creek and polish off two liters. Carrying water in your belly is much easier and more efficient than hauling it on your back.

Since I didn't know that, this segment posed some difficulties. Which makes it all the more a blessing that Apple set up his hiker shelter here, around mile 17.8. Apple's a trailangel, the first of my acquaintance. Trailangels are individuals who have a soft place in their hearts for long trails... and the crazy people who hike them. They drive up to a trailhead with coolers full of snacks and drinks, and sometimes also bring folding chairs (real chairs!) or even fresh foods and a portable stove. One trailangel made omelets all day long for starving thru-hikers. Others, like Apple, choose places where hikers frequently get themselves into trouble and need some R&R -- last year, he said, he was pulling severely dehydrated people off the mountain and hauling them into town, because Razor creek wasn't running at all (if there isn't snow or afternoon thunderstorms, don't trust it!)






The valley between 17.8 and 20.4 is thick with cows -- these ones clustered stupidly near the cattle guard, entirely blocking the way.


Oddly, the sign here says 'road closed.' Duh, really?


About mile 5.0, cairns lead the way off to the right, to an overlook, bench, and great flat campsites.






Suggested updates to the guidebook:

0.0
The trail heads slightly up, then gradually down into more interesting terrain. There are a great many mushrooms throughout this area.

1.0
It's tough to tell that this knob has been burned, now. But there aren't any intersecting trails -- just follow the road. You can't get lost.

2.3
About when you start thinking you must surely have gone too far, you'll find this turnoff to the right. It's now clearly signposted, and the route well-trod. It's hard to miss.

~5.0
Somewhere around here, just where the thick forest starts to thin out, a few half-hidden cairns lead the way to the right. There are fantastic, flat spaces here for camping, and a very lovely overlook with a bench. No water, though.

6.9
The trail for a half-mile radius around the baldy lake turnoff is thick with mosquitoes, as is Baldy lake. If you've had rain, if there are puddles on the trail, you're almost certainly safe to skip baldy lake and go ahead to Razor creek instead.

10.5
Razor creek doesn't quite deserve it's 'half-cup-full' designation in the databook. It drains a very small valley, so if there hasn't been rain in the past day or two, you'll be out of luck. The creek has been improved, however -- there's a small basin built of stones just beside the road.

10.8
There's a fantastic camping spot here, just before the trail leaves the creekbed and heads left.

11.5, 12.4, 12.8
Trails break off from the CT. They are well-signposted.

17.8
Join up with a dirt road. This is where Apple, a trailangel, had set up shop.

19.2
Lujan creek was flowing very well when I passed (though it was an excellent water year.) If you've been seeing plenty of rain and Lujan creek is full at this point, then don't worry too much about water -- Pine and Archuleta creeks, up ahead, will almost certainly be flowing. Past this point, BTW, it's hard to quickly get out of sight of passing vehicles for about the next 3 miles, so if you need to pee....

20.4
The tarmac here looks alien after so long on the trail! Turn right and head down the road about a mile or so. Keep an eye open to your left for a very wide, deep parking area.

The elevation listing here is not correct -- the elevation at mile 10 should read 11200, not 12200. Big difference. Also, I *believe* the elevations of the minor summits at 14.6 and 15.5 should be around 11250 and 10700. However, it's possible that my cheap little altimeter had a malfunction. I certainly felt like *I* was having one -- all those darned false summits, dips and climbs!

---> Onward, to segment 18!

Mushrooms of the CT!

Making mushroom jerky! Slices dried well on hot rocks around the fire.


A Hawkwing mushroom -- evidently delicious if sauteed a while, otherwise sometimes bitter.


Possibly an inky cap -- delicious when young, but causes adverse reactions when consumed with alcohol.





2010 was a fantastic year for mushroom hunters throughout Colorado. There was plenty of rainfall, and temperatures stayed generally mild. Except for in the dryer regions near Denver, mushrooms were everywhere along the trail -- sometimes sprouting inches from the path... or right in the middle of it! And after you've been walking for four or five days without fresh foods, some fungi can look pretty darned tempting. There's one that looks like creme brulee, others that have a fantastic sweet scent, and up in high alpine meadows the ground is littered with what looks like loaves of bread. Not only are mushrooms nutritious, but they're also mainly water. This was a great water year, but there were still places where I'd have gladly snacked on a high-water food source -- one I didn't have to carry -- in order to make my water bottles stretch a little further.

The only thing is... how do you keep from ending up in the hospital, or worse? Quite a conundrum.

Fortunately, I met Katrina along the trail. She runs the Turtle Lake Refuge wild foods restaurant, in Durango. She was walking from Durango to Telluride in order to be an instructor at the wild mushroom festival there. She recommended two varieties that are fool-proof to identify -- one of them is probably the best mushroom I've ever tasted, wild or not. I ate pounds of it, made jerky of it, put it in my soup every evening. I present to you:








The King Bolete.

Scattered at high elevations like loaves of bread, these monsters can be bigger than footballs or small as a golf ball. They are very, very common, and are easy to identify due to four distinctive features: First, they have no gills, but rather white or yellow sponge on the underside. In very young ones, the sponge is white and so fine-grained you have to look closely to see the pores. This is the most important ID characteristic. Second, they have a thick, squat stem. Third, they are a pretty tan/brown/rust on top, resembling a loaf of bread or a dinner roll. Four, the flesh is white, pleasantly aromatic, and crisp. They usually grow over 10,000 feet -- the first half of segment 27, for example, has thousands of kings scattered *everywhere.*


A huge bolete.

There are a number of related bolete species -- so don't go eating just anything with sponge instead of gills -- but in Colorado, only a couple very rare ones are toxic. They don't look like the kings, have bright orange or red undersides, and the flesh isn't white but rather stains blue when bruised. They may smell like carrion. If you can manage to gag one down, it'll make you darned sick for a while. If you're not certain, don't eat it.

Other common boletes are edible, they just might not taste quite like the king. The queen bolete is rarer than the king but has even better flavor; the queen is a darker purple/tan on top but otherwise identical. Slippery Jacks grow at lower elevations, have a thin stem, usually have a slippery/slimy film on top which should be peeled off, and are pretty bland, verging on insipid.


An unidentified bolete of some sort; not poisonous, but probably not tasty.

Kings and queens, however, are fantastic raw or lightly cooked. If you can figure out how to saute them so much of their liquid evaporates, using the cooking gear available to you on the trail, they're even better. The flavor is nutty, earthy, a little like vanilla. Try oriental ramen with a tin of kippered herring fillets and a whole lotta kings. Or add them to any stroganoff or cheese dish. Scrumptious!


Cheesy tuna with lightly cooked king boletes -- tasty and filling!

One caveat: boletes are much beloved by pretty much the whole animal kingdom. You'll often find places where bears or deer have eaten every king in a field, leaving only bits of the stem behind. Sadly, insects also like them. Especially at lower elevations or in wet places, older boletes may have grubs or worms inside. You can either trim off the bad parts on big mushrooms, or only collect the smaller mushrooms, which the bugs haven't found yet.


The underside of a king bolete.










The Giant Puffball

In the fields near the end of segment 24, there were dozens of these large white fungi, most as big as soccer balls. When they're that big, puffballs look like no other mushroom on earth -- you can't make a mistake with identification. They're best picked before the top has split open, when the flesh inside is white and firm but never hard. Old mushrooms are pithy and have a mealy texture. Shades of yellow or blue inside or a bad smell mean that the mushroom is really old; if you somehow gag it down, it will cause upset stomach.

You can eat the nice firm puffballs raw or cooked. If there's a thin, leathery outer layer, you should peel it off, because it may taste strange. Puffballs are best when cut into steaks and browned in butter, or breaded and fried, or paired with strong cheeses -- they have a strong, earthy, mushroomy flavor. You can toast them on a stick over a campfire like marshmallows, but they're also alright just cubed and simmered in soup.

Small or immature puffballs, ones around golf-ball size or smaller, are a little more complicated. There are many different varieties, some with spikes, some with studs or lumps, some crackly and pearl-shiny, some tan and pear-shaped on the outside (white inside.) All are edible, though some are very bland. The problem is, you need to sit down with every one you collect and a sharp knife, and slice it down from top to bottom. This is because small or young puffballs resemble baby aminitas, many of which will kill you dead. Which is something you probably do not want.


A cluster of baby puffballs.

If you cut your baby puffball open (from top to bottom, remember) and find that it has a design inside -- actually the developing cap and gills of another mushroom species -- it is not a puffball. It may be poisonous, it may be delicious, even experienced mushroom hunters can't tell which. Throw it away, and wipe off your knife. If you cut open your puffball and find only pure, white, snowy insides, then it's a puffball. (Deep-fried meatless meatballs, anyone?)





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Russula #1


Russula #2


Russulas, like the three above samples, grew thickly in the dry pine woods at all elevations. They often emerge still covered with dirt and pine needles. The white one, a short stemmed russula, is edible but very bland. The red one with the white stem has a powerfully peppery taste and can make you sick. Another very common kind -- a darker dusky purple topped fungi sometimes with a slightly rose-blushed stem -- was the delicious shrimp mushroom, which tastes sort of like its name. Wish I'd known what I was passing up!

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This little guy looked perfect and tempting -- but broke when I tried to examine it. The pic isn't a good one, but it's possible this was a Destroying Angel. It's evidently a good idea to avoid all pale, veiled fungi until you're a lot better at identifying 'shrooms than I am.

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View of bottom


View of top.


Another specimen. This large white mushroom started showing up all over the place, towards the end of the hike. Sometimes they were dinner-plate sized. It may be either a leucopaxillus or a clitocybe -- the two families have both tasty and toxic members.

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Unknown!


Unidentified... but looks delicious....


Also unidentified.


Still not sure what these guys are.

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I believe this is a trophy cluster of oysters -- I should have picked some and turned them over to check out the underside.

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This might be a cluster of edible-but-bland velvet foot, cousin to the enoki found in sushi... I should have checked out the undersides!

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Some kind of a Pholiota -- smelled like pizza, but not usually eaten as it makes some people sick.

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A club or strap coral mushroom cluster.


Another club coral mushroom, possibly the 'flat-topped' variety, which is sweet enough to serve for dessert!

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Fly Aminita #1


Fly aminita #2 -- older mushrooms tend to fade to yellow or orange, but still have the spots over the top. These are toxic -- but also famous for being intoxicating.

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A whole clearing full of apricot-scented mushrooms (scrumptious, juicy chanterelles.) Oh, if only I'd known then what I know now!

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My only real regret about hiking the CT is that I didn't bring a mushroom ID guide. I cannot adequately describe how plentiful and perfect the mushrooms were -- and a big plate of oyster 'shrooms for dinner appetizers would have been fantastically welcome... especially on those segments where I, erm, miscalculated how much food I needed. A guide would have been well worth the extra six ounces, and I would have been much healthier and far more entertained on the trail. Check out the pocket guides by David Arora, who is very strange, but knows his stuff.